Centrifugal Motion
by E.V. North
Summary: This is the story of an artificer on the verge of her greatest achievement...or will it be her greatest failure?


E. V. North

Centrifugal Motion

"This could either be just the nudge the solution needs to crystallize, or the kick it takes to make it explode." Arpen said in a rather exited tone, indicating a swirling blue liquid in a glass bottle with a small sparking electrode she was holding in her leather, work-gloved hand. "You may want to stand back a bit." She pulled a pair of black welder's goggles off her scraggly blond hair and placed them over her gold eyes with her free hand. Her mechanical dog, and trusted lab assistant, Alfonse, cocked its angular steel head to the right and gave a tinny whine.

"It's fine," she assured the concerned canine "I have the original mixture written in my notes. If it's ruined I can make a new batch." Alfonse continued to look concerned.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." Arpen rolled her eyes "If you're that worried then go hide under something." Alfonse yapped once and bounded out of the room entirely clattering over the uneven stone floor, taking cover under the big iron forge in the _next_ room. Arpen watched him go and shrugged. Alfonse was constantly forgetting that he was made of steel and was therefore immune to most of the dangers inherent to Arpen's cluttered workshop. It was his loss if he didn't want to witness technological history.

"Alrighty, here we go" Arpen took a deep breath and braced herself. She picked up the bottle of blue liquid in her left hand. In the other she turned the electrode down to its lowest setting. Holding the two an inch apart from each other she saw herself going down in history for the discovery of this nearly limitless energy source. Holding her breath painfully in her chest she lowered the tip of the electrode into the solution. A small hiss was heard as the hot metal touched the liquid's surface. For a moment it looked as though nothing had happened, but upon closer inspection of the bottle she could see that miniscule chunks of crystalline dust has formed and were gently floating, suspended in the blue liquid.

"Ha!" Arpen almost jumped for joy, but quickly stopped herself, cradling the bottle "Take that Gnomitall Tech." Arpen continued to praise her genius for a bit longer, taking off her goggles and gloves. Alfonse, deeming the situation safe, came clanking back into the room. Pausing to acknowledge the dog's happy barking, Arpen looked back at the bottle to check the progress of the crystal formation. There appeared to be no change. The same specks that were there to begin with still floated, no bigger than before.

"Hm, They should have kept growing. I can't do anything with them like this" Arpen turned the setting on the electrode up another notch.

More confident this time, Arpen lowered the hot tip of the electrode into the liquid once more. Another hiss was heard, this time accompanied by a new sound. Shattering glass and a rush of superheated air exploded from the place the bottle had been just seconds before. The force of the blast knocked Arpen into the iron workbench behind her. Splinters and shards of glass peppered her skin. It felt like a combination of hundreds of paper cuts and pins and needles like when your arm goes to sleep. She could feel the added scorching sensation of the hand and wrist, which had taken most of the explosion, quickly disintegrating. Arpen franticly looked around for something, anything to wash this corrosive goo off her hand. Her left eye was useless. Reaching up with her unmelted hand, she touched what should have been her eyelid. Her searching digits found no eyelid; they did not even find an eye. She fingered the empty socket in dazed confusion and looked down at her hand to see that it was covered in a viscous red and silver liquid with streaks of the blue, corrosive goo running through it like tiny veins. Shooting pain from her hand brought Arpen sharply back to reality. She still had to wash this horrible stuff off. Tripping and stumbling over crates, tools, and overturned chairs, she threw herself down in front to the clay basin she kept filled with water only to find that it had been overturned in the explosion and the water was running all over the floor, now mixing with her blood. Deciding it was better than nothing she ripped off her light yellow sleeve on her uninjured arm and thrust it into the puddle to try and soak up as much water as she could. She now felt strangely lopsided as she brought the soaked sleeve to her forearm. The first thing she noticed, upon closely inspecting her arm was that it was missing the thumb and index finger and was also lying on the ground about a foot behind her. The missing thumb and finger were about six feet behind the rest of the arm, eaten down till nothing but the bone remained. Arpen wrapped the wet sleeve around the stump left of her arm, just below the elbow. She also ripped off the bottom of her shirt and held that to her eye. Alfonse, struggling and yipping, dug himself out of a pile of ruined wand wood and creak-clanked his way to Arpen, none the worst for wear. Arpen congratulated herself silently on what a good job she had done constructing him as she sat on the floor and leaned on a crate that had burst open and spilled alchemy components across the stone floor. She sighed painfully.

"You know? I think this might just be bad enough to see a doctor about eventually." Alfonse whined and lay down next to Arpen. She patted his steel head with her stump. "No, it doesn't hurt that bad. All the nerves are dead, I think." Alfonse yipped "Are you kidding?" Arpen cocked an eyebrow down and her dog "Of course I'm gonna try again. Once I build myself a new arm and fit myself for a new eye I'll be ready for another shot. Besides, I've always wanted to try my hand at prostheses." Alfonse heaved a sigh and lay back down.


End file.
